


Mysteries of an Antique Shop (Drarry)

by indfirol



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-05-13 03:44:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5693317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indfirol/pseuds/indfirol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry moves in with the Weasleys and Arthur invites a man he knows from work over for christmas dinner, his whole world flips. This man claims to be his godfather, and has been looking for him. Harry is offered a job at the antique shop Arthur owns so he can get to know his godfather Sirius Black better. But there's a boy... with nearly silver hair and cold gray eyes who visits the shop everyday. He's quiet, spending his time in the old books section. Harry gets to know him and they talk some, but Harry doesn't know anything about him other than the fact his name is Draco. He slowly falls for him nonetheless, loving all of the boy's imperfections. Harry finally moves in with Sirius, but what he has to tell Harry isn't at all anything he wanted to hear. When he uncovers the truth about Draco and his family, can they still remain friends, let alone lovers?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One- The Early Years

**Author's Note:**

> Harry isn't aware of why his parents are dead or of his past at all and the Dursleys are trying to keep it from him. also this is a Muggle AU!

His hair was red. It almost looked like his head was on fire from the color. His freckled hand was outstretched, waiting for Harry's with a patient, wide smile.

"Ronald Weasley, but you can just call me Ron." He shrugged playfully. Harry's forest green eyes were wide with shock. This boy was actually speaking to him with  _kind_ language and his hand wasn't physically hurting him. What, is he mental? He hesitantly took the hand anyway. "Erm... Harry."

Ron gave Harry a once over before letting out a low whistle. "Those clothes are _big_ ,"

Harry wrapped his arms around his chest with insecurity. Dudley's hand-me-downs were nearly three times his body size, which wasn't that shocking considering Harry had always been scrawny. He was basically skin and bones with how little food he was given.

"They aren't mine. Well... I mean they are- but they're just hand-me-downs from my cousin..." Harry nearly choked saying "cousin", he hated talking about him, and just saying it out loud was a reminder they were related.

"All my clothes are hand-me-downs too from my five older brothers, if they last that long I mean. Sometimes we go second hand shopping, but if the sweater isn't falling apart at the seams, it's being passed down." He gave Harry's jumper a look of confusion. "But nothing I'm given is ever  _that_ big... bloody hell."

"He's a big kid,"

"You know, I bet that fat lard picking on that boy over there is your cousin."

Harry looked off into the football field where Dudley was poking a small boy in the chest, pushing him around. He was on the verge of tears. "That's him alright,"

"You don't visit his house often I assume," He laughed "I wouldn't want to visit family like that."

"Actually, I live with the pig." It felt nice, being able to openly insult his cousin like this with someone. If he ever said anything like this in front of Uncle Vernon, he'd be out for a week.

Ron gasped and looked at Dudley with disgust. "Is he like this at home, too?"

"All the time," Harry closed his mouth to refrain from saying more. He couldn't hint to Ron about his life at home, or to anyone. No one was supposed to know or he'd be dead meat. "I mean, I guess he's not that bad. We play around rough, that's all."

The expression on Ron's face showed he didn't believe Harry at first, and he hoped he wouldn't ask any questions, but it subsided to a calm one. 

"If you say so mate. Hey, do you want to be friends? It'd be nice to actually have someone to talk to and you looked lonely over here so..."

Harry was taken aback. Friends? He didn't know how to have friends... what if he messed up? Did something he wasn't supposed to and ruined it?

But he  _was_ lonely... and it gave him a good reason to avoid going home after school. So he nodded nonetheless.

Two other boys came up and stood on either side of Ron. They were identical twins, both with the same fiery hair, blue eyes, and freckly faces. I'll never be able to tell them apart!

One of them placed a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Don't tell anyone," The other smirked and finished his brother's sentence. "But we have firecrackers."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Of course you do, you're going to get expelled. Bringing explosives to school on the first day!"

"Woah, calm down mum."

"Mum would've taken 'em by now. Are you going to use 'em?"

"Not unless we absolutely have to," one said. 

"Mostly we've just been selling them," said the other.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed together. "Why would you have to use the firecrackers?"

The one on the right sighed. "Oh man, you wouldn't believe how often a situation calls for fireworks. Want some?"

"Fred! I just met him and you're trying to sell to him?"

"Well on my defense, I don't know any of the kids I sold to today so it doesn't make a difference. Oh right, I'm Fred." He turned to me.

"And I'm George." The other says, going to stand next to his brother and jabbing him in the ribs playfully.

"This is Harry." Ron told them. "Nice to meet ya Harry!" They both said simultaneously. And for the first time in a long time, Harry smiled a genuine smile.

\-------------------

"No way," Harry grinned, bringing his legs up to his chest.

"Yes way! I tell you I've never lost!" Ron smirked, pulling a chess board in front of them. "Wanna play?"

Harry's smile faltered a bit. "Er, well- I don't know how to play."

The red head nodded. "It's alright Harry, I'll teach you. Chess is pretty difficult I guess, so I'm not surprised you don't know it."

"Are you calling me stupid?" He pressed his hand to his heart in mock hurt, trying not to chuckle.

"Only the dumbest." Ron concluded.

"You talking about yourself?" George slinks down the stairs.

"No they're talking about you, George." Fred inquired, following behind his brother.

"That makes you no better, then." "Better than you since you decided to put that fork in the toaster." "That was your idea too-"

"BOYS QUIT ARGUING." Mrs. Weasley snapped quite loudly from behind Harry, entering into the cluttered kitchen.

"Sorry mum..." they both mumbled. She points at Fred.

"You put a fork in the toaster?! Is that why it isn't in the cupboard? You could have killed yourself! That's so dangerous, What were you thinking George!"

"But mum, I'm George." George said quietly. "Honestly woman, you call yourself our mother?" Fred snickered.

"Oh shut up." She swats her hand and turns around. Her glowering eyes light up at the sight of Harry. "Harry Dear! I didn't know you were here, I'm just about to make lunch."

He had been spending just about every weekend here for the past six months. He's grown comfortable with them, being able to joke freely and not be scared about it. He'd opened up a bit more with them and he knew that the Weasleys really did care about him. At least he was pretty sure... He tried to keep that voice locked in the back of his mind. Ron only lived a couple streets away from him, so walking over here was easy. It was getting past the Durselys that was the problem. Every time he tried to sneak out the front door on Saturday afternoons, aunt Petunia would just set him to work on the flowerbeds or the kitchen. 

Luckily, he got here this morning. Instead of trying to leave after breakfast, he left at seven a.m. and swung at the park for a couple hours before heading over here. The Durselys will be furious that he hadn't been there to be their little servant this morning, and Dudley no doubt threw a fit that he had to go grab the post. 

Harry's stomach flopped when he thought of the punishments that awaited him at home for this and Ron quirked an eyebrow.

"You alright mate? You look a little pale."

"Er... uh yeah. I'm okay." He cracked a smile to his best friend. Wow... 'best friend'. How did he get one of those?

"Morning Weasleys!" A cheery voice came from the back door, stopping Ron's attempt to press further. A man dipped his head under the frame on his way in and took a seat next to Ron.

"Morning, dad!" The kids all called. Ginny and Percy came downstairs and joined them at the table. Percy had his face buried in  _A Brief History of Time_ by Stephen Hawking and Ginny was looking anywhere but at Harry.

Mrs. Weasley brought a plate stacked with sandwiches and set it on top the empty chess board. "Arthur, it's lunchtime, not morning."

He glanced at his watch and then back up at her. "Well last time I checked, which was three seconds ago, it was 11:49, so technically it's morning- ow!" She had whacked him upside the head with a rolled up copy of today's paper before placing it in front of him. 

Harry always felt a bit out of place sitting with all of them, being the only person with black hair and no freckles.

"Jiminy Christmas..." He whispered under his breath after a moment of silence. "They're at it again, Molly."

Fred and George had stopped their quiet side conversation to listen. "The raids?"

Mr. Weasley gave them a look over the paper. "What do you know of them?"

"Oh please, it's all over the front page. Riddle's followers are acting again. "dormant for twelve years" Rita said. I assume she's talking about the Death Eaters-"

"Boys! We're not talking about this at the table." Mrs. Weasley snapped.

"Wait, I want to know what Death Eaters are..." Harry said through a mouth full of ham and cheese sandwich. Molly gave him a solemn look and nudged her husband. He seemed to understand.

 

Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch. Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "Well, there was a man named Tom Riddle. He made this big deal about how the poor were a downfall to our society, how they were just in the way and too lazy to get proper jobs to have good homes and such. Nobody took him seriously. But he did have a handful of followers called Death Eaters who believed every word. They thought the same thing; eradicate the poor. They started..." His voice wavered a bit "going to small villages. They would pull all the innocent people out of their homes and shoot them, then burn their houses down. They had disguises, but some were caught. They all have tattoos on their left arm of a skull and a snake so they can easily identify one another. But now that it's illegal to have that mark, they have to stay hidden. 

"After a while, they stopped caring about the poor and just started raids. Tom was insane, and his followers were either forced to do his bidding or were just as loony as he was. There was one attack, twelve years ago in a village south of here. But this time, he was caught. The Scotland Yard had interrogated a Death Eater and got the information out of him about the next raid. He's been in prison ever since and they haven't done anything without him. The Death Eaters that escaped I mean. But they're at it again... this will no doubt be on the news. Haven't you ever heard about this?"

Harry's eyes were wide and he shook his head. He's never been allowed to read the news paper or watch the news. The Weasleys all exchanged glances but didn't say anything.

 


	2. Birthday Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this isn't going to follow the books/movies much, just pointing that out. References will be made that were said at a different time in the series and I am well aware c: enjoy~

Harry was knocked out of his trance by his well known obese cousin. He had been sitting on a swing, staring into the empty field when the boy showed up with his little gang.

"Well well well... Not with your little boyfriend today? I know what today is, but I guess he don't." Dudley snickered, kicking a stone off to the side. His brainless minions laughed profusely at Dudley's comment about Ron being his boyfriend.

"That's funny, When did you learn to tell the days of the week, Duddykins?" Harry scoffed, standing up from his swing. "I'm leaving."

"Running away, are we Potter? I bet your parents would have too if they were alive, away from you that is." They cackled again.

"They would have loved me! You don't know anything," Harry snapped, his hands balling into fists. The truth is, he didn't know anything either. Why did his parents have to get in that car accident? Why was he dumped on the Dursley's doorstep and not some other family member? Would they really have loved him...?

"I know all about you and your dead parents. Murdered when you were only a year-"

Harry pivoted on the spot and shot Dudley a look. "Murdered?!"

The fat boy chuckled and threw his fingers into his hair. "But I can't tell you about that. Mum and dad won't allow it. Speaking of, they want you home. Good luck, Shithead."

"What the Hell do you mean by murdered?!"

"Oops. I've already said too much," They smirked and walked off into the grassy field.

Harry's mind swarmed. They we're murdered? Why hasn't he been told about this? Who killed them? His brain wandered back a few months, remembering what Mr. Weasley had told him about Riddle. He raided a village 12 years ago... Harry would have been a year old.

But for all he knew Dudley could have just been pulling his leg. Messing with him to get him into trouble when he started asking questions. He wasn't allowed to do that, and for every question that slipped passed his lips it was a punishment. Most of the time he was just locked into his cupboard and wasn't fed for a day or so.

He thought about all of this on his way back onto Private Drive. Why did they want him home? Surely not for his birthday... they've never even said "happy birthday" or given him a card or present. Not in all his fourteen years. So why now?

He walked up the garden path and into the house where an irritated horse-faced lady stood. She wore an apron over her light purple dress, but still managed to get flour on it. Her hair was already done along with light makeup, but that didn't make her look any better.

"Marge is coming for dinner tonight, and things need to be done." She snapped. "First of all, fix your hair. Then the dishes need to be washed while I make dinner." Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes a bit. He hated Marge and her stupid fat dog. This earned him a sharp slap upside the head. "Don't roll your eyes at me!"

Harry should have known this wasn't about his birthday. He got his hopes up a little too much, but he wasn't disappointed. It was to be expected as of every year.

"Sorry,"

"Dishes. Now."

He hung his head low as he slunk into the small kitchen and ran the hot water.

\----

The doorbell chimed a few times before Harry made it to the door. He had tried his best to comb down his hair but it just wouldn't stay and he knew Marge would make a comment about it at some point.

Her dog ran in first when he opened it to let her in. He was silent as he stepped to the side.

"Still here, are we?" She sneered at him, but her expression changed when uncle Vernon wobbled into the hall to greet her. They hugged for a moment before she went into the dining room and shrieked with delight.

"My Duddykins!!! You've gotten so big!!" She kissed his cheek over the back of the couch but he didn't seem to notice, his eyes were glued to the telly in front of him.

Uncle Vernon grabbed ahold of Harry's collar and pulled him back. "You behave in there, Boy." He nearly spit. The fragile boy squirmed out of his grip and spit back "I will if she does." and promptly entered the room.

He stood in the kitchen and leaned against the counter as they all took their seats at the dinner table. He's allowed to eat some leftovers later if her dog doesn't eat them first. As they were getting comfortable and fixing their plates, the telephone began to ring.

"Answer it, Boy." Vernon demanded.

Harry did as ordered and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Harry?" Came a voice all too familiar to him and he felt a smile tug at his lips. He's had a rough day and to have Ron call him brightened it a bit.

He had to keep it formal though, he couldn't be caught having too much fun. In a monotone voice he answered "Speaking."

His eyebrows raised and his heart sped up when a short silence was broken, and every Weasley shouted into the phone "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" His smile couldn't help but shine and he covered it with his mouth.

"Thank you all so much," He whispered into the receiver. He felt the back of his eyes prickle and feared he was going to cry.

"Come over when you can, dear, we made you a cake!" Mrs. Weasley chirped. The phone was taken and the twins spoke together "Happy birthday, Harry! What are you today, twelve?" They laughed before Percy took it. "Happy birthday," He was formal about it. To Harry's surprise Ginny spoke up. "Erm... Happy birthday.." Harry could hear a grin in her voice.

"When do you think you'll be here?" Ron had regained control and Harry could hardly keep in his laugh as an alternative to crying.

"Well my aunt Marge is here for dinner so it will be a little while, but I'll be there."

"Go eat then and then head straight here. Mione will be here soon and we'll all have cake together. Don't eat too much birthday cake over there and save some room!"

Harry's heart sank a bit. He didn't have dinner or a birthday cake, but he will for the first time ever when he goes over to the Weasley's later.

Hermione was Harry and Ron's bestfriend. She was a big know it all at first when she transfered over second semester, well, still is, but she'd toned it down a bit. She lived a little farther away but they all figured out ways to hang out over the summer (Ron's house).

"What's keeping you in there?! Come get Marge's plate!" Vernon called.

"Who was that Harry? That was rude." Ron asked concerned.

"It's nothing, really," He said cooly. "I'll be over in a bit." and with that he hung up. When he went back into the dining room, Marges plate was on the floor and her dog was licking off of it. Disgusting.

"You. Clean it up." She snapped, much like her brother. He said nothing and took the plate into the kitchen to wash it.

"Where did you say he went to school again?" She asked uncle Vernon. For some reason he didn't want her knowing that he went to school with normal kids. He wanted her to think Harry was some delinquent, so he nearly knocked it into the boy's brain before she arrived that he went to St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys.

"St. Brutus's, Marge. It's a school for a bunch of criminal boys who don't know how to be proper." He pointed at Harry, who just turned around and leaned against the counter again. "Notice his attitude?"

"Well, I'm not surprised. It's one thing for it to be something in the boy's brain, but it's another for it to be the parents. What did his dad do again?"

Harry could feel heat rise to his face. His heart sped up.

Aunt Petunia spoke up this time. "Oh he didn't work, he was unemployed."

"It was probably his mother. If there's something wrong with the bitch, there's something wrong with the pup-"

"Shut up! Shut! Up!" Harry roared, causing everyone to jump except for Marge, who just smiled wickedly.

"Hits a nerve there, I see. Well let me tell you-"

"You don't need to tell me anything! Just because I didn't know my mum or dad doesn't mean I don't know that they were wonderful people!"

"How could you possibly know that, you're a bastard child with no recollection of what happened and why. You know absolutely nothing." She sneered again, so wide her eyes were slits.

"Marge," Uncle Vernon started but she stood up and walked towards Harry. "I know everything about you. More than you know about you."

Harry couldn't control his anger. It was boiling inside him like a witch's cauldron and before he knew what he was doing he shoved Marge with all his strength. She stumbled back and fell onto the table, it broke and collapsed under her weight and the Dursley's jumped back screaming.

Harry had never seen Uncle Vernon's face that red before. His hands shook and he broke for it. He made it to the door and pulled it open before Vernon hauled him back and slammed him into the wall. He grabbed a fistful of Harry's hair and yanked his head back.

" _WHERE THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING, POTTER_." He growled through his teeth and let go of him, only to land a very hard smack to his right cheek. He cried out and fell to his knees. Uncle Vernon unlocked the small cupboard under the stairs where Harry slept and tried to shove him in. Harry grabbed the frame and pushed forward, slipping around Vernon and sprinting out the door. He could hardly see through his tears and his cheek was on fire. His glasses flopped around on his face from being broken by his uncle's blow.

Funny how fast a night can change.

He wiped the tears away and ran down the street. His neighbors were all inside enjoying dinner while his stomach grumbled. They were all oblivious to Harry's abuse, in fact, they were all convinced he was a delinquent. They wouldn't help him.

His lungs burned an icy burn as he tried to draw in his ragged breathing. He was sobbing. He brought a shaky hand to the Weasley's door but it swung open before he could touch it.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed happily, but his grin vanished. "Oh God Harry. Mum! Get a wash cloth, he's bleeding!"

Ron put his arms around Harry's shoulders and pulled him into the kitchen, sitting him down in a chair. Molly was in a panic, wringing out a cloth and hurrying to Harry's side.

"Oh dear oh dear... who did this to you?" Her voice was calm yet alarmed.

Harry couldn't speak, he just choked on his strangled sobs. He was so scared.

He didn't even notice when she started dabbing his cheek with the cloth, brushing his hair out of the way.

The other Weasleys and Hermione gathered a few feet away, watching Harry's breakdown with dismal looks on their faces.

It took a few minutes for Harry to calm down, leaving him with swollen, puffy eyes, and sticky cheeks. His tears stung what was apparently a cut where he was struck.

Why was he acting like this? It's not like this hasn't happened before... Maybe it's because he's never had anyone to rely on. He trusts the Weasleys with his life. Before, he's never had anyone to run to. He stayed locked in his cupboard and endured whatever he was hit with.

The others all sat at the table with him, ready for the story. When he didn't give one, Mr. Weasley spoke.

"Your life at home isn't good, is it."

Harry shook his head.

That's all they needed to hear apparently. "Well, as of now, you'll be living with us. You are most _definitely not_ going back there." Mrs. Weasley stated and Harry's eyes widened.

"But- but my things-"

"Not to worry. Molly and I will pay them a little visit tomorrow and pack your things." Mr. Weasley interjected.

"I'll give you pajamas for tonight, mate." Ron said with a sympathetic look in his eyes.

"How messed up is that, hitting your family," George shook his head in disapproval. "Totally messed up." Fred added.

"Boys..." Molly whispered and they stopped talking.

Harry gave a weak smile that hurt his bruising cheek. "I'm used to it, it's okay... You don't have to do this-"

"It most certainly is not okay, Harry." Percy said, his nose not buried in a book for once.

Harry was silent again. Maybe living with the Weasleys will be good for him. They're amazing, kind, and always make sure you're fed. He won't have to do the housework for the Dursleys anymore and he'll actually be happy.

"I know."

Ron stood up and pulled him up the stairs. He opened a door to the biggest room in the house, a long curtain dividing the room in two. Ron shared with Fred and George and the difference was shocking. Fred and George had junk _everywhere._ They had all kinds of gadgets and trinkets that could wreak so much havoc. Ron's side, however, had one twin sized bed and posters of his favorite football team, the Chudley Cannons. Both sides where about as orange as his hair.

"I'll fix myself a bed on the floor, you take my bed."

"No, it's okay- I can sleep on the floor it isn't a big deal, really."

Ron looked to be contemplating something before saying it aloud. "Did they make you sleep on the floor...?"

Harry sort of chuckled. "I had a bed, but it wasn't in a bedroom."

He raised an eyebrow but didn't ask anymore questions. Hermione came into the room just then.

"You doing okay, Harry? How are you feeling?"

"Much better now that I'm here," he answered and smiled.

He'd calmed down quite a bit and his heart was beating at a normal pace again. His stomach growled and Ron laughed.

"Didn't you just eat?"

"They didn't allow me to eat with them. I get the scraps."

'It's all coming out now, I guess.' Harry thought to himself.

"Bloody Hell... let's get you some food. Are you hungry? Well of course you're hungry, a stomach rumble like that could start an avalanch." He rambled on, throwing Harry a pair of sweats and a tee shirt. "You can change here and meet us downstairs alright?" He clapped Harry on the shoulder before leaving the room with Hermione.

He sat on the bed for a minute or so, thinking. What were the Dursleys going to say? About him living here? They have every right to say no, even if they don't have any of his legal papers.

How are the Weasleys going to go about it? Is uncle Vernon going to lie right to their faces and tell them some absurd story? Will they believe it?

He shook these thoughts out of his head and quickly changed, liking how the clothes actually fit his body for once. He watched himself change in Ron's mirror and frowned. He could see his ribs. If he stopped eating completely, he'd probably be dead within a week. He was so hungry.

He dropped the shirt and went downstairs, smelling something delicious. On the table was a big rectangular cake with chocolate frosting and the words "Happy 14th Birthday Harry!" Scribbled across the top. He winced when he smiled, but that didn't stop it from being genuine.

"We've already said it a dozen times but..." and they launched into song. Fred and George were the loudest voice wise, while Ron had a pot and wooden spoon.

This night may have turned into one of the best of his life.


	3. He bought something!

They all waited nervously at the table the next morning. Fred and George had volunteered to help Ginny make breakfast as they had all woken up late. When they went downstairs, there was a note on the counter saying Molly and Arthur were at the Dursley's. 

When they said they were going to go talk to them soon, they weren't kidding. It was barely ten o' clock in the morning. 

Harry stared at his burnt toast with a sick knot in his gut. He couldn't eat when the thought of Uncle Vernon screaming at the Weasleys replayed in his mind. That and his cheek was a swollen purple and he had a hard time moving his jaw. 

Ron was nervous too, but he stuffed his face anyway. He ate way too much for his own good. 

"What do you think is happening over there?" Fred asked, shoveling eggs into his mouth. Harry just shrugged and picked up his toast. 

"Hopefully nothing bad," he said "The Dursleys will be filling them with lies no doubt."

"They won't believe it, mate. Mum's got the best lie detector we've ever seen after having seven kids." Ron spoke through his food.

It went quiet for a moment and George broke the silence. "If you don't mind me asking, Harry... but what happened last night?"

"George!" Ginny nearly shouted. "He doesn't want to talk about it!"

A lump formed in Harry's throat but he pushed it down. "No it's alright. You all need to hear I guess and I need to get it off my chest. I'll tell you everything."

"You don't have to-"

"No I want to. It needs to come out. I've never told anyone before..." And it was burning beneath his skin. He wanted help. He needed to let everything out and it was begging to be free. He wanted the Dursleys to go to jail for all the abuse they've inflicted on him. 

Ginny hesitantly nodded and Percy set his book down. They all waited patiently. In the silence, everyone could hear Ron chew. 

"The reason I got hit last night is because my Aunt Marge was talking badly about my parents. She was kind of ganging up on me so I pushed her. She fell over and broke the table and I tried to run but Uncle Vernon caught me. He was about to lock me up but I ran past him and came straight here..."

"That's bloody awful Harry. Your aunt deserved it though, good on ya." Ron said and received a hard whack from Ginny. 

Harry grinned a bit before diving into story.

"I guess it started when I was one. That's how old I was when I was left on the Dursley's doorstep. They didn't like me... at all. I grew up watching my cousin Dudley get everything he ever wanted, and he got fat while I got skinnier. I learned how to cook early as I had to make their meals, but I wasn't allowed to eat what I cooked. I was given left overs at the end of the day if my cousin hadn't already eaten them-"

"So you haven't properly eaten in fourteen years?" Fred whispered, which was odd because he and his brother were normally pretty loud.

Harry took off his taped up glasses and set them on the table next to his orange juice. "Technically yes, but then I met you. We started hanging out and you all are so nice. It took a while for me to get used to because I've never been treated like this. Your mum sets a pile of food in front of me and I always think ' _is this some kind of teasing joke? Or is this really for me?_ ' and when I figure out it is for me, I hesitate, because I'm not used to eating so much and I'm never sure if I can eat it all.

"But when I was five, I asked how my parents died. I'm not allowed to ask questions or talk really but my aunt told me anyway. They died in a car accident, and that's how I got this scar on my head," He ran his fingers along a thin, straight indent in his skin, sort of like a crevice, and only about an inch long. "Except for some reason I've been led to believe they may have actually been murdered. I don't know what to believe. I guess it doesn't really matter, they're dead either way."

Just then the front door creaked open and Molly and Arthur entered the kitchen with a small shopping bag. The kids were all happy to see them alive but the look on their faces told Harry they were definitely troubled about something. About him. 

"Here are your things, Harry.." Molly handed him the bag. Inside were his few toy soldiers. His _only_ toys. 

"Thanks," Harry smiled at them, but Arthur was completely serious. 

"You slept in a broom closet under the stairs?"

The others furrowed their brows. Harry nodded and Ron sighed. "That's what you meant by not having a room."

"It actually wasn't that bad, I had a bed. The only thing I didn't like was how Dudley would run up and down the stairs and shake dust onto me."

"That kid can run?" Arthur joked, his frown turning to a smile and Harry burst into laughter. "Surprisingly yes, but not fast."

The kids all chuckled and the tension in the air had subsided a bit. 

Arthur clapped his hands together. "Well, Harry, welcome home. They... said they didn't want you anyways... and we could have you if we didn't call the police. You're starting a new life!"

Harry stood up and pulled them into a bone-crushing hug. A smile etched it's way onto his face and he laughed. "Thank you so much!! This is fantastic!"

\-------------------------------

It was nearly a year and a half later when Harry had heard of him. 

Arthur walked through the back door in the kitchen as usual, hung up his wet coat, and sat down at the table, but not before moving a matryoshka doll from his chair. The Weasleys had a lot of strange things in their house because of Arthur's job. He owned an antique store. "Everything has a story, and most of the time we don't know it, but we can still imagine it." He told Harry once. Completely unlike the Dursley's tidy home, the Weasleys had piles upon piles of newspapers, stacks of old dusty china, dolls and puppets from all over the world, rusty jewelry, and things that Molly had made herself. She liked to make wind chimes out of old cutlery as a hobby. There were framed photos along the walls and a few contained two boys that Harry had never met. They were Ron's eldest brothers Bill and Charlie. Bill worked for a bank over in Egypt and Charlie was in Romania studying mythological creatures. 

Mr. Weasley smiled and took a sandwich from the platter Molly had set on the table. Most days went like this. Arthur would go to work, and then come home for lunch, then head back. There would be sandwiches waiting for him everyday. He usually talked of the interesting things he sold or gained that day or of his employee Sirius, but today was different. 

"He bought something!" Arthur exclaimed. Molly raised an eyebrow. 

"Who did, dear?"

"The boy! The one who's always in my store! He's always sitting in the book section. Today he bought one. It was a weird book I'll say, but I actually _spoke_ to him!"

"Okay Arthur, you need to calm down. That's good and all but you sound like a creep." She stated, completely deadpan. 

"I was just curious, Molly. He's been in there nearly everyday for a month now and he doesn't answer when I talk to him. I don't know his name or anything, so when he came up to the counter with the book and said 'hello', it was startling. I thought he was a mute or something."

"Did you get his name?" Harry asked, grabbing a sandwich for himself. 

"No, not this time. He looks an awful lot like Lucius Malfoy though..." His facial features darkened.

"Oh not this again, dad," Ron groaned, playing with a chess piece. He was setting up the game before his father sat down. Harry chuckled.

"I'm just saying! They have the same hair color, eyes, and nose!"

"I think you have a problem. There isn't anything wrong with Lucius Malfoy. He works for the ministry, that's it. He's not a Death Eater." Percy had joined in, sitting down across from Arthur. 

"Well if that's his son, I don't know what he'd be doing with a book about Riddle. A little suspicious to me."

It was quiet.

"But you don't know if that's his son. Lucius already knows enough about Tom, so he doesn't need a book-" Percy was cut off.

"Because he's a Death Eater!"

"No, because he worked on the case. Besides, everyone knows about Tom."

Arthur didn't seem to have a way to respond so he just took a bite of his sandwich. Harry looked out the kitchen window, watching the snow fall. Every snowflake is different. Not a two alike. That fascinated Harry quite a bit. Today was a snow day so they didn't have to go to school. It's hard to drive on the roads right now but Mr. Weasley made it a point to come home everyday.

Christmas was right around the corner and he was so excited! Since he'd only actually celebrated once before, it's like he's a little child. His first Christmas, Molly knitted him a marvelous sweater with an H on the front. Ron say's she'll do it again because she does it every year, and Harry's okay with that.

"It's almost Christmas." Harry smiled. Ron grinned and finished setting up the board. 

"Sure is. One more month. Hopefully the spiders all keel over and die, but dad reckons they'll come inside for warmth. I bloody hate spiders..."

Fred and George opened the door and came in with cherry red noses and nearly dripping wet. The snow on their coats was already melting and they tracked in water and mud. Molly shrieked and shooed them out again. "You're getting the floor dirty! Shed your layers before coming in here!"

Harry chuckled and Ginny sat down next to him. "Here, try this. Do you like chocolate?"

"um, yeah." She slid a golden ball in a paper brown cup in front of him. "Thanks. What is it?"

"It's called Ferrero Rocher. I assumed you'd never had one, so I decided to give this one to you. You're not allergic to hazelnut right?"

Harry shook his head. At least he was kinda sure he wasn't. He'd never tried it. He took the ball and slowly unwrapped it to reveal a bumpy chocolate thing. It smelled good and Harry's mouth began to water. Without a second's hesitation he threw the whole thing in his mouth. It tasted better than it smelled and he closed his eyes. He'd never had chocolate like this before. 

"He likes it," said Ron, taking one from Ginny. She swatted at his hand but he was too quick. "Where did you get these, anyway? They're expensive..."

"...Dean gave them to me. Yesterday."

His face fell. "Thomas? Dean Thomas? You've been awful friendly with that guy, lately."

Ginny's face was beet red. I swallowed the chocolate and gave her a smile. "Hey, It's okay if you like him-"

"You're all so embarrassing!!" She cried. "It's not like we're dating or anything!" And then she ran up the stairs to her room. 

Ron smirked. "Women. At least she doesn't like _you_ anymore."

Harry was confused. "She liked me?"

"Oh, yeah. She never stopped talking about you before you moved in. Surprised you never noticed."

Now it was Harry's turn to blush. He never really thought of Ginny that way, or many girls for that matter. Harry considered himself gay, and he didn't have a problem with that. He didn't want people to really know yet. Well, actually, he wasn't sure. Was there a sexuality for just in between? Like if he found the right girl he'd date her? And vise versa for boys? He didn't know, and honestly he didn't really care.

"I see her as a sister." Harry said nervously.

"And I see you as a brother, so it'd be weird for you to dated my sister anyways."

"Looking a little flushed there, Harry." The twins said, coming into the house completely shed of their coats, hats, and boots. Mrs. Weasley handed them rags to wipe up the water they'd left previously.

Mr. Weasley gave Harry a wary look before putting down his sandwich. "Can I talk to you in private?"

Harry's heart dropped to his trainers. Had he done something wrong? Is this about Ginny? "Er... yeah. Of course."

When they were in the hall Harry quickly said "There's nothing going on between your daughter and I, I promise there isn't anything to worry about-"

Mr. Weasley laughed and patted Harry's shoulder. There was actually muscle there now after being well fed for nearly two years. "I know, Harry, that's not what this is about."

He led him into the family room and sat him on the couch in front of the warm, crackling fire. "I need to tell you something, and it's important you don't get weirded out."

"Okay," Harry said, confused again. Weirded out by what?

Arthur sat next to him. He hesitated, trying to find his words before speaking. "Well, you've never met him, but my employee Sirius Black knows you. He's proved it to me. We're inviting him to Christmas dinner because he doesn't have a family to visit, and he's going to talk to you."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I promise you sir, I've never met a Sirius Black."

"You were only a baby, Harry. You wouldn't remember him. He was your dad's best friend." 

This caught the boy's attention. "He knew my dad?"

"Yup, he showed me pictures. You were a cute baby, to be quite honest. You had chubby cheeks."

"That's weird, Mr. Weasley."

He sighed. "I suppose it is. None of my kids are little anymore." He seemed to realize he was getting off topic and smiled. "Just talk to him, okay? He's a really great man if you listen."

Harry nodded. He felt excited. It was great to know that there was someone out there that could tell him more about his parents. It felt like Harry was being lied to... He didn't believe what the Dursely's told him. But he had nothing to prove it. Maybe they died in a car accident, and maybe they didn't. He wanted to ask Mr. Weasley if he new anything, but he doubted it.

All in all, Harry couldn't wait for Christmas. He had another thing to look forward to. 


	4. Mr. Sirius Black

Christmas holidays. Do you know what that means? It means comfy sweaters with the first letter of your name embroidered on the front. Hot cocoa. White Christmas. Presents. Delicious Dinner.

Chaos.

It was Christmas Eve and the Weasleys were in a panic.

“Ginny, dear! Get the roast out of the oven will you?” Molly’s head was lost in the china cabinet, searching for her finest dishes she insisted they use with the guest.

The youngest Weasley nodded and ran to the oven, giving a kick to Fred as she passed. Fred and George were sticking brown globs of gelatin under the seat cushions, obviously trying to create a scene during dinner.

“They’re these bomb things they’ve created. When you sit on them they make the worst smell you can imagine. I don’t even know how they concocted a smell like that but prepare yourself.” Ron informed Harry while they washed the dishes. Molly kept bringing out seasonal plates and cups that stayed in the attic and closets, never turning up until christmas. They were layered in dirt and Harry washed while Ron dried them off.

“That’s pretty disgusting. Do we just leave them there?”

“Ginny will do it. She’s gained mum’s eyesight for that kind of stuff. She won’t let them pull anything with Sirius here.”

Harry’s heart picked up. Sirius Black was going to be here any moment. He was finally going to meet someone who could give him answers to his questions. He would be able to find out more about the death of his parents and who they were. Nevertheless, Harry was still scared out of his freaking mind. What if they weren’t really nice people and Sirius had nothing good to say. What if Sirius didn’t know them at all.

Ron seemed to sense his anxiety and gave him a pat on the back. “Don’t sweat it mate. Dad’s told us lots of stories about Sirius and I know he’s going to be amazing.”

“I’m sure he is… but what if my parents are exactly like what Marge made them out to be? What if they were absolutely terrible people and never would have loved me?” Harry had to quit talking because a large lump was building in the back of his throat. Just thinking about how his parents might not have loved him really hit him where it hurt. He never even knew them, but still, he liked to imagine.

Just then Mr. Weasley bustled in through the back door, hanging up his coat. “I just shoveled the driveway for him, he called and said he’d be here in a couple minutes.” He waved his little flip phone once and set it on the counter.

Ron gave him a sympathetic look before taking the dried dishes to the table. Molly loaded them with mashed potatoes and vegetables.

“Sit down Harry, sit sit.” Molly patted a chair and pulled it out for him. Even though he’s been here nearly two years, Molly still treated him as a guest.

“WAAIT!!” Ginny cried and whipped off the seat cushion. She scooped the glob up and threw it into the backyard. The twins groaned in protest, which soon turned to evil cackles of laughter as the room filled with a smell even worse than sulfur. Mr. Weasley had sat down.

“BOOOYS!” Molly’s face was beet red and she pulled the neck hole of her sweater over her mouth and nose. She dug around in a cabinet for a minute before bringing out the air freshener. A few long spurts later and the smell was heavily masked by Garden Breeze.

There was a knock at the front door and Harry’s blood ran cold. Arthur got up to answer it, and Harry was about ready to excuse himself to the bathroom for the rest of his life when he walked back in with a man. His hair was worn shoulder length and slightly wavy. His eyes were sharp, but kind, and his jaw defined. Light stubble covered his pale face. He gave the room a kind smile, which caused the corners of his eyes to crinkle.

“Hello, everyone! So lovely to meet you at last, I’ve heard so many great things from Arthur here.” He gave Mr. Weasley a pat on the back with a chuckle. Then his eyes landed on Harry.

The happy expression was wiped from his face and replaced with one of shock and surprise. His hand raised to his mouth and Harry grew increasingly uncomfortable.

“My God… You look just like him.”

The room was silent and Harry wished they would say something. Anything. But then Sirius rounded the table and took Harry’s hand in his, shaking it hard. “My boy! It’s so lovely to see you! Fourteen years it’s been, and how slow they’ve gone by. You have Lily’s eyes…”

“Er, it’s nice to meet you too, sir.” Harry tried to take his hand away but the man had a tight grip.

“Please, call me Sirius.”

\---------------

Dinner was as normal as it could be in the Weasley household, and it’s far from the Dursley’s definition. Jokes were cracked, stories were shared, and Sirius was actually quite charming and got along well with everyone. Harry wasn’t as nervous as he was before.

Then Ron asked the question.

“How do you know Harry again?”

The room fell silent again and Harry wanted to disappear. But Sirius just laughed and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Well, you all are going to hear it eventually so why not say it now?” His attention turned to Harry. “Believe it or not, I’m your godfather.”

There were a lot of things Harry could have said in response to that, but the only one that decided to make an appearance was hurtful. “Then why wasn’t I taken into your custody when my parents died in that crash instead of being thrown on the Dursley’s step and abused for thirteen years?” His voice came out shaky and cold.

Sirius faltered. This wasn’t the reaction he was hoping to receive. 

"W-well you see, I wasn't around... I couldn't."

"Where were you?" Harry demanded. His bottom lip began to tremble and he felt on the verge of tears. He couldn't cry... now of all times? It's Christmas dinner for God's sake. 

"You and I have a lot to discuss after dinner... If you'll let me speak. There are things you should know. Also I have a special gift for you."

Harry merely nodded, fearing that if he spoke, his voice would fail him.

There was an awkward quiet after that, the only sound being silverware on plates. But Sirius decided to lighten the mood.

"What kind of bagel can fly?"

Mr. Weasley looked up. "Excuse me?"

"I asked what kind of bagel can fly"

Fred and George cracked up. "We already know that joke, It's a plain one!"

Sirius smiled and looked at his lap. "Looks like I've got to touch up on my jokes. Just trying to break the tension."

Harry cracked a little grin as well, but hoped no one saw.  

Sirius finished the last of his dinner and gave a soft chuckle. "This dinner was fantastic, Molly. It's been so long since I last had a Christmas dinner with someone."

"Oh, thank you dear. You're welcome anytime you feel lonely," Molly responded, getting up to take his plate to the sink. She brought back a clean one for him. "Dessert's almost ready."

"Don't you have a girlfriend or something?" Harry asked. He still felt a bit agitated, but as far as he knew, Sirius didn't deserve the attitude Harry was giving him. Sirius's eyes glazed over and his expression changed only slightly, but was back to normal just as quickly. "Ah, no. I lost my loved one quite a long time ago and haven't found someone new yet."

Harry crumpled. "I'm sorry to hear that,"  _'I guess everyone loses people they care about'_  He thought.

Soon, everyone was finished and started on dessert, a chocolate mint pie she had been working on all day. 

The dishes made an obnoxious clinking noise as he dropped them in the sink. There was a low whistle and he looked over his shoulder to see Sirius waving him over. He grew tense, but followed him into the family room and sat down on the couch.

The older man let out a long sigh and took off his fancy dress shirt to reveal a Ramones t-shirt. He pulled his hair back into a pony hair and laughed. "So much better. I hate dressing fancy, and I feel like I can relax now."

"It's a completely different side," Harry noted.

"Well, a man has to make a good first impression. So," He leaned back and rested his arm on the back of the sofa. "I'm ready to spill if you're ready to listen."

Harry swallowed thickly. "Okay."

"To answer your question from earlier, the reason I couldn't take you into my custody was because I was convicted of a crime I didn't commit. Spent twelve years in Azkaban, just waiting to get out so I could find my godson."

Harry felt his stomach drop. "Twelve years? What was the crime?"

Sirius gave him a weary look and shook his head a little. "They thought I murdered someone. Odds were against me and I was locked away. Three years ago I got out, but I didn't know where you were. I needed a stable foundation before I started my search, just in case I got to take you home with me, but no one would hire me. I had a criminal record, not to mention petty things I did as a teenager with your father and our two other friends- no... one other friend. Just reckless things from the teenage years. But I met with Arthur for an interview at his shop, and he was convinced I wasn't the killer. In fact, he had done research and concluded I was innocent. In the wrong place at the wrong time. He happily hired me. A year later, he mentioned a boy they had taken under their wing. He used to live in terrible conditions. For... for some reason he didn't tell me your name for a long time. But then a few months ago, he did. He knew I was looking for you. I guess he had to gain my trust, you know? I was invited to Christmas dinner and, well, here I am."

Harry's leg was bouncing with anticipation. "So you really couldn't have raised me..."

"Nope. I'm surprised you never heard of me..."

"When I lived with the Dursely's I wasn't allowed to watch TV or read newspapers. So I haven't heard of anyone really."

"I'm so sorry you had to live with them... James said they were just awful. He used to rant about them sometimes. He and Vernon got in a fight when they met for lunch and I don't think Lily ever forgave him for that."

"Were my parents... uh... Were they nice people?"

"They were the best I ever knew. Loyal, funny, knew how to have a good time. They would have loved you, Harry. When you were little, we literally had a bijillion different names for you. Never called you Harry, you were James the Sequel or Mini Me, named after a character from an amazingly terrible 90's movie. We had a feeling you'd take after you father and have a knack for witty comebacks and causing mischief."

Harry laughed. "Well, that's true. I've gotten into more trouble in my life messing with my pile of lard for a cousin. Too fat to run after me."

"That's my boy!"

Harry had never heard someone say that to him. Only Dudley got praise like that. It felt... nice.

"Oh!" Sirius clapped his hands together. "I have a present for you!" He jumped off the couch and took a parcel off the reclining chair across the room. "Here, I think you'll like it."

Harry examined it in his hands. "What is it?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Well that's for you to find out, now isn't it? Why do people ask that?"

With a light laugh, harry ripped the brown paper away. In the confines of it was a photo album. When he opened the front cover, there was a picture of a man and a woman in a tight embrace, snow trickling around them. The man resembled an older version of Harry. He whisped his fingers over it. "Is that..."

"Your mum and dad? Yup. Pretty cliche aren't they? Hugging in the falling snow."

"I wish I knew them,"

Sirius sat down at Harry's side once again. "You know," his voice dropped to an almost whisper. "They loved you so, so much. I was pretty jealous."

"That they loved me more than you?"

"No, that I didn't have parents like that. Though they  _did_ pay more attention to you..." He shrugged. "Oh who am I kidding. I always had you in my arms. I gave you most of the attention." 

Harry grinned and flipped through the rest of the book. More pictures of his mum and dad, along with a young Sirius and a tall man with auburn hair and a long scar across his face. There was another man, short and chubby, smiling along with them. 

"Who are they?"

Sirius's eyes twinkled. "The man with the luscious black hair and ravishing facial features is me," He winked at Harry jokingly. "And the man with the scar is Remus. He was attacked by a dog when he was a kid. And... That's Peter. What a disgrace..."

"What? What did he do?"

His face folded into a scowl. "He framed me. He's the killer. Ran off before the police showed up."

Harry felt sudden hatred toward the man in the photo. Because of him, Harry's life had been miserable. "Where is he now?"

"No idea. Hopefully dead."

Time to switch the subject. "So... er.. was Remus nice?"

Sirius's mood visibly changed at the mention of his old friend. "Very. He was more book smart though, kind of like the mom of the group. Scolded us when we got in trouble. He was also... My boyfriend at one point."

Harry was momentarily shocked. "You're... you're gay too?" The 'too' slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it and he covered his mouth, looking anywhere but at Sirius. 

Sirius was just as shocked as he was. "Too? You're gay?"

"Er- yeah I guess. I've never told anyone." His face was on fire and he was certain is was red as a beet. 

"Hey, relax. I'm glad you told me, it's one step forward, you know? At the time I was more... bisexual I guess, if that makes sense. I liked both men and women. But over the years I've only liked men."

Harry felt suddenly relieved. He never thought it a big deal that he liked boys, but now that he said it to someone it felt like a weight was removed from his shoulders. Maybe it was a bigger thing than he though. He suddenly felt compelled to tell everyone else he trusted, so he wouldn't have to do it in the future. But not yet... he didn't know how they felt about that sort of thing.

"Why aren't you two still together?"

"When I was taken off to Azkaban, I had to leave him behind. After a few years he broke it off and stopped visiting me. He was too lonely... When I got out, I found him in the phonebook and called him. We met up for lunch, but he had a girlfriend." His eyes drooped a bit. 

Harry contemplated asking the question resting right on the tip of his tongue, but it was kind of embarrassing. Curiosity got the best of him and he asked anyway. "What's it like to have a boyfriend?"

He huffed out a chuckle through his nose. "Honestly? A damn struggle. But it's an amazing experience to care for someone Harry, though at times you're filled with worry or sadness. It just shows you how much you really care. You'll find someone one day, and you'll know."

 


	5. Coming out to everyone (by accident, of course)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I reread the previous chapters today, I noticed so many errors and typos. But being lazy, I'm not going to fix them. Just know that chapters from now on will be double checked and hopefully won't be terribly written. 
> 
> Also, if you haven't figured it out already, I'm American, and have a very hard time keeping track of phrases and words English people use so I'm just going to write it in the "american way" where I type "mom" instead of "mum" and don't add "u" to words like "color". I'm sorry but it's hard to remember. 
> 
> Another also that's completely irrelevant, I'm wearing a hoodie indoors because it's 87 degrees out so my parents are blasting the AC. One of the vents is conveniently located right next to the computer and my hands are freezing. 
> 
> Okay one more: This chapter feels very short. I'm sorry.
> 
> The first four chapters were basically just the beginning, explaining how everything happened. That's why they're so far apart time wise. The chapters after this won't have time skips, so now it's just smooth sailing.

On the morning of Harry’s sixteenth birthday, he decided he was going to drop out of school. Living with the Weasleys was amazing, but he couldn’t stay there forever and he certainly didn’t have the money to move out. Of course, he didn’t plan on moving out until he was eighteen, but what’s the harm of saving up for the future?

 That’s why he decided to drop out. He could work for two years, and use that money to start a future.

 Over the past six months, Harry had seen Sirius quite often, and they’d all finally been allowed in Arthur’s shop. Since Harry and Sirius couldn’t meet until Arthur was satisfied that he was a good person, Harry and the others had never been to the shop.

 It was even cooler than Harry had imagined. Fred and George went nuts, looking at all the old trinkets from the early twentieth century and gushed about how they worked. They’ve recently found out about a certain thing called a Rube Goldberg machine and have been pranking the family nonstop with oddly made contraptions. They’ve also taken an interest into creating a shop of their own, and even offered to sell some of their prank inventions at the store.

 Arthur, seeing potential disaster, turned it down.

 The last time he was at the store, Harry had seen him. Draco, the boy Arthur talks about. Harry would be lying if he said he didn’t have a crush on him. His appearance had made Harry start stuttering while talking to Ron, looking at him over the redheaded boy’s shoulder.

 Draco was just a little shorter than Harry, though he’d never been close enough to tell. Last time Harry checked, he was six feet tall exact, which Sirius had said was the same height as his father. His hair was so blond it almost resembled white, and when he’d glanced over at Harry and gave him the smallest of smiles, he noticed a tiny gap between his two front teeth. His eyes were grey and cold, but for some reason Harry knew he was a nice person. The way he held himself seemed… posh. His posture was perfect whereas Harry’s was slouched and relaxed, his head held high while Harry stared at his feet.

 But the thing Harry liked the most was his shirt. Draco wore button up shirts with short sleeves. It was white and had small blue dots. For some reason, completely unknown to Harry, Draco’s style made his heart flutter. He _loved_ the way he looked in those clothes, and it seemed to be the weirdest thing he’d ever experienced.

 Ron rolled over in the bed next to Harry’s and continued snoring. His cheek was covered with dried saliva but Harry was used to the fact he drooled in his sleep.  His chest tightened when he remembered the deal he’d made with himself: When he turned sixteen, he’d come out to Ron. Ron was his best friend and brother, and he deserved to know. He hoped to come out to the whole family, eventually.

 “Ron,” Harry whispered, whacking the boy’s hand that hung from the side of the bed. “I have to tell you something.”

 Ron grumbled some incoherent birthday wish and fell right back to sleep.

 “Hey, wake up.”

 “erbhabaga”

 “Ron, I’m gay.”

 The words came out of his mouth quickly, and he almost hoped Ron hadn’t heard it. His fear was feeding him doubt, and he all of a sudden thought that Ron would be mad.

 Ron opened his eyes and looked at Harry through squinted eyes. He rubbed the eye boogers away. “Come again?”

 Harry considered backing out, then thought better of it. “I’m gay.”

 “Uh, that’s cool I guess. At least you won’t be dating my sister. Also, happy birthday. I’m going to continue sleeping now, since it’s 6:00 in the morning.” And just like that, he started snoring. Harry wondered if Ron would remember any of that when he woke up.

 His closeted chest felt significantly lighter knowing Ron wasn’t mad, and it felt amazing to tell another person.

 The curtain separating the room in two split open at the middle, both twins poking their heads out. “We heard every word,” one said. “And we accept you.” said the other.

 Harry chuckled. “Thanks, guys. Please don’t tell anyone else.”

 “We won’t, your secret’s safe with us. You remember Dean Thomas? The boy Ginny had a fling with? Turns out he’s gay too, and he’s dating Seamus Finnigan now.”

 Harry’s eyes widened. “What? Since when?”

 “Probably going on four months now. They’re really happy together.”

 Ginny, who happened to be coming down the hall to use the bathroom, said “Are you talking about Dean and Seamus? They’re so cute.”

 George laughed. “I know right?”

 So they’re out? To everyone? And Ginny’s okay with her ex boyfriend being gay?” Harry was excited to hear about boys his age also being gay.

 Yeah, I think they are.” Fred said, “they’d hold hands at school all the time and I saw Seamus kiss Dean’s cheek once. I’m surprised you never saw it. So if they can be out, so can you. I know the family will be fine with it.”

 Ginny came back with a toothbrush in her mouth. “Harry, are you gay?”

 A lump formed in the back of his throat. Out to four Weasleys in one morning. This was going faster than he thought. He nodded.

 “Oh thank God, now you can suffer with me. Mom always points out boys to me at the supermarket and now she can do that to you too.”

 “I haven’t told her yet,”

 “The walls aren’t that thick, she probably already knows.”

 Harry’s face paled. Does that mean everyone knows? His palms began to sweat and he wiped them nervously on his bed covers.

 “Don’t worry,” she added, “Mom’s always been accepting. Dad too, he thinks it’s interesting.”

 Just then Ron snored incredibly loud and everyone looked at him.

 At 8:00, Harry decided it was late enough to go down to breakfast. He tiptoed down the stairs and took a seat at the table. The sizzling of bacon was pleasant to hear and Molly turned from the stove with a warm smile.

 “Good morning, and happy birthday dear.”

 “Thank you, and good morning.” He smiled back. His heart pounded with nerves. Had she heard? Did she know? She didn’t seem any different than usual. “Uh, can I tell you something?”

 Her eyes sparkled. “Of course! You can tell me anything.” She took a seat across from Harry.

 “Erm, well, I want to drop out of school. To work. I need to start raising money for when I leave.”

 She almost looked disappointed. “Are you sure? You can work and have a job, you know. And you can stay with us as long as you need, our home is always open.”

 “Yeah, I know. It’s just that I’ve learned everything I need to know and I don’t want to go to school anymore. Maybe I’ll decide to homeschool later on. I was wondering if I could work at the shop.”

 “The shop?” She asked. Then her eyes widened and she smiled. She grabbed Harry’s hand. “Oh, I see. You want to get closer to Sirius. I think that’s a great idea, working with your Godfather. And I know how tough school is for you with your cousin, so I understand that you want to drop out. Arthur is showering now, so you can talk to him about it when he comes down.”

 Harry hadn’t really considered working at the shop for that reason, but it did seem like a good idea. Getting closer to Sirius sounded fantastic.

 Harry sniffed the air and Molly gave an alarmed expression. “The bacon. It’s burning!”

 Molly jumped from her seat, and with a string of swears, put the strips onto a plate. They didn’t look so bad, and Harry was hungry, so he ate some anyway.

 “They’re not too burnt. Still good.”

 She sighed with relief and shoved a strip in her mouth.

 After a few moments of silence, Molly chuckled. “I accept you and so does Arthur. Just so you know.”

 Harry groaned with embarrassment.

 “I sure do,” Arthur said, coming down the stairs and shrugging his coat on. “There’s no reason I wouldn’t.”

 “Thank you, both of you.” Harry smiled, feeling more at home than he ever has in his entire life. Feeling more loved. “Mr. Weasley, can I have a job at the shop?”

 “Summer job?”

 “Permanent. I’m dropping out.”

 Arthur froze mid bite of his bacon. He gave a quick glance to Molly. “Does she know about this?”

 “Yes.”

 “And she’s okay with it?”

 “Mostly.”

 He chewed on it for a few seconds (literally). “Alright then. Come to work with me tomorrow and I’ll hire you. This is a great opportunity for you to get closer to Sirius.”

 Molly grinned. “That’s what I said.”

 Arthur gave her a peck on the lips and grabbed his hat from the rack it hung on. “Off to work now, I’ll be back for lunch. And happy birthday, Harry.”

Later that day, around 7 P.M. when Arthur came home, the Weasleys, Hermione and Harry all gathered around the kitchen table to celebrate his birthday. Sirius showed up ten minutes late.

“Sorry I’m late, I couldn’t find Harry’s present. But no worries, here it is.” He handed Harry a small box no bigger than his hand. It was wrapped in newspaper.

He opened it eagerly, always excited to get presents, and grinned when he realized what it was.

“It’s an Mp3 player and headphones,” he held it up so the Weasleys could see. “Thank you Sirius, I love music.”

“So do I, except I don’t know what you like so there’s a little bit of everything on there. My music taste is a bit broad.”

“I don’t know many artists, I just listen to the radio.”

“He didn’t even know who Lady Gaga was.” Ron cut in.

Sirius let out an audible gasp. “Lady Gaga is a goddess.”

“And Beyonce,” said Ginny.

“Definitely Beyonce.” Sirius agreed.

Harry scrolled through the artist list while they discussed music gods. He’s never even heard of most of them, but a couple stuck out like Asking Alexandria and Escape the Fate-- Dudley went though a phase.

He raised an eyebrow. “Is this one Chinese?”

“That’s Korean. It’s a kpop band called Vixx.”

“Huh. Who’s Eminem?”

Fred and George groaned. Percy shut his book and nodded toward the Mp3 player. “Does it have any Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds?”

“Of course, there’s a little bit of everything. Sounds like you have good taste, Percy.”

Harry didn’t know what to say. This was one of the best gifts he could ever ask for. While living with the Dursleys, he never gotten to listen to music. But now with the Weasleys, he could listen to it whenever he wanted. He appreciated how every song had a meaning and a story, and someone took the time to sit down and write how they felt. How they loved and how they cried and how the world was bright or how it was ugly and then put beautiful chords to it to give it that extra step that really drove it home.

Percy cleared his throat. “My gift for you is similar to Sirius’, so I guess I’ll go next.” He disappeared upstairs for a moment, then came tromping back down with an acoustic guitar. It had a red bow tied to the neck. Harry’s eyes widened, as did everyone else’s in the room.

“I don’t play anymore, so I want you to have it. I figured it would be a good hobby for you. I can’t bring myself to sell it, and I’d feel much more comfortable if it was with you. I replaced the strings and tuned it yesterday.”

Harry’s hands were shaking as he took the guitar from Percy. It was a tan color with a neck that seemed the perfect length for Harry, though he didn’t know anything about guitars so who knows, maybe all guitars have the same length neck. Stuck in the strings was a pick.

“I… wow. I can’t believe-- This is for me? Thank you so much I…” Harry felt on the verge of tears. He blinked fast to push them back.

“You’re welcome, I’m glad you like it.” Percy smiled.

Harry opened up everyone else’s gifts, and he loved them all to bits. Molly knew how Harry enjoyed cooking, so she put together a cookbook of recipes passed down through her family. Arthur gave him a card with some money inside because he couldn’t decide what to get him. Fred and George gave him a plastic pickle, and at first he was very confused, but then he found the button, and it turned out to be not only a pickle, but a  _ yodeling  _ one. Ron gave him his very own chess set, and Ginny had painted him a picture of a castle by a lake, with a brilliant red dragon perched on one of the towers. She’d taken up painting a while back, and she was an amazing artist. Last but not least, Hermione had given him a stationary set. “Since you don’t have a phone, you could send me letters. Old fashioned, I know.”

“Now for the cake. This time it’s German chocolate!” Molly balled her fists with excitement and took the cake from the fridge. They all grabbed a slice as she cut them but no one could eat until Harry took the first bite. Ron tried to hide his slice from his mother’s view. He’d already taken a bite before Molly said anything. He was unsuccessful, of course. “Birthday kid gets the first bite, Ronald!”

Sirius gave Harry a quick wink. After they finished their cake and everyone dispersed to do their own things, Harry and Sirius made themselves comfortable on the front steps.

“Arthur told me you’ll be working at the shop.” He said, bumping gently into Harry’s shoulder.

“Yeah. I’ll get to spend more time with you.”

“I’m glad you like me so much. You’re the only family I’ve got left. Not that my family liked me much, but still.”

Harry shifted a bit. “Can you tell me about your family?”

Sirius’ face hardened, then saddened. “Not tonight, Harry.”

The boy nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I just don’t want to ruin your night. It’s your birthday after all. I'm sorry for saying anything.” Sirius’s voice trailed off a bit, like he was thinking deeply. Then his ears perked up excitedly. “You came out today! I’m so proud of you!”

Harry burst into laughter and guarded his ribs from Sirius’ friendly jabs. “Everyone was so much more supportive than I thought.”

“It’s not the stone age, Harry, you’re not going to be burned at the stake.” Chuckled Sirius. “Any boys you fancy?”

Harry thought back to Draco at the shop, staring at the spines of dusty books. His cheeks flushed.

Sirius smirked. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“It’s the boy from the shop. The one always looking at the books.”

“Really? He’s so pale, you’d think he’s dead. His style is amazing though.”

“That’s what I think, too. His style I mean. He looked so good when I saw him.”

“Well, you’ll get to see him a lot more since you’ll be working there. Maybe you could even get his name.”

That put a seed of hope into Harry’s chest. There could possibly be a future for them. They could start dating and go to coffee shops, and he’d be able to steal some of the boy’s shirts while the boy stole some of his hoodies that he wore all year round, and Harry’d be able to hold his hand-- he liked how thin and bony it was, and how he could see his knuckles. He wondered what his voice sounded like, and he wanted to know everything about him. His favorite color, his favorite band, what is the scent of his shampoo? Does he have any scars? What are they from? How soft is his hair? Harry couldn’t help imagining running his hands through that hair. And his lips, God they were so thin yet looked so soft and he wanted to kiss them--

“Yoo hoo, anybody home? You’re spacing out there.”

“Uh, sorry I was just--”

“Thinking about him? I know what that’s like.”

Harry looked into Sirius’ brown eyes. The man was smiling but his eyes… They were so sad.

“Tell me more about Remus. Did he make you happy?”

The smile finally reached his eyes. “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

“He used to have nightmares, and no matter what time it was, I’d hold him. I’d comfort him for hours. And after he calmed down, we’d go to the roof of our apartment building and drink coffee while looking at the lights of the city. He never liked his scars either, and sometimes he’d put makeup on them to conceal them. He thought they made him a monster. I thought they were beautiful.”

Sirius’ eyes began to well up, but he kept talking.

“He was a real bookworm. While I played guitar in a band, which I can teach you by the way, he was always reading. Fantasy novels usually, about magic and creatures. He always got embarrassed when he’d accidentally gush about a good book. He thought he was annoying but I could listen to it forever.

“I miss him, you know? He visits me sometimes, and it’s great to see him but it’s painful, knowing he has a girlfriend. I hope you meet him one day, he absolutely adored you when you were a baby.”

That night, Harry couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t help but think about the boy, and then how sad Sirius was about Remus. What if he fell so deeply in love with the boy that it physically hurt him for years? Haunted him like it haunted Sirius? Did he really want that?

Maybe he was thinking too far ahead. He was sixteen, after all, it’s probably just a crush.


End file.
